My heart burns for the world that I will never know,
because in the end it was my decision to walk this road.
To mean what has been sung would sling the crippled to cast,
and to the sea would ripple water to wave,
and flower to bloom.
A familiar noise to light the way;
My voice.
A dark radiance to null the pain of a hand touched eternity
would surely conspire to guide what lava left to nothing.